2:17 AM, Zhou Yuqing's apartment was still lit.
Curled up in a corner of her leather sofa, the cold glow of her phone screen illuminated her delicate, fox-like face.
"Is this the photo of Nan Zhi's car accident?" Her slender fingers tapped rapidly, zooming in on the image sent by the other party.
The chat window showed "Entertainment Explosion Bro" typing:"Yeah, but the other driver was at fault. Nan Zhi just said a few words and left—not much of a story here…"
Zhou Yuqing's red lips curled into a smirk.
"Aren't you gossip accounts experts at twisting the truth?" She typed swiftly,
"Just post it as if she hit someone. Title it: 'Top influencer suspected of drunk driving hit-and-run."
The other side sent a sweating emoji:"That's straight-up defamation… What if she sues—"
"Coward." Zhou Yuqing scoffed and transferred 50,000 yuan in one go.
"Is this enough to buy your guts?"
The payment was accepted instantly. A grinning emoji popped up:"Deal! See you on the hot search tomorrow!"
Satisfied, Zhou Yuqing locked her phone and padded barefoot to the floor-to-ceiling window.
"Nan Zhi…" She rolled the name on her tongue like she wanted to chew it up and swallow it.
"We're both foxes of the same breed. Who are you trying to fool with that innocent act?"
She had seen it clearly today—the raw desire in Lin Xuyan's eyes when he looked at Nan Zhi. It disgusted her.
"Dare to steal my man? This is your fate."
7:00 AM, I was already seated in the makeup chair at Xingyue Entertainment, stifling yawns as the artist dabbed at my face.
"Ms. Nan Zhi, could you lift your chin a little?" The makeup artist, Shan, gently reminded me, her concealer brush hovering midair.
"Ah, sorry." I forced myself to perk up and tilted my head back. Today's shoot was a traditional Hanfu transformation video—from modern office lady to Tang dynasty noblewoman. Just the hairstyle alone would take two hours, not to mention the 10-pound embroidered dress waiting for me.
The door suddenly slammed open, hitting the wall with a bang. Mr. King stormed in, his face so pale it looked painted. He shoved his phone in front of me.
"Care to explain what the hell this is?" His voice was low, but it sent chills down my spine more than any shout could.
Shan wisely retreated. I took the phone—screenshots of Weibo hot searches and gossip articles, all featuring photos from my near-accident. The headlines screamed:"Top Influencer Nan Zhi Drunk Driving Hit-and-Run! Exclusive Footage!"
"This was when I almost got hit!" My eyes widened. "The other car swerved into my lane! How is this being spun as me drunk driving?"
"You're asking me?" Mr. King gritted his teeth, jabbing at a close-up photo. "Then why the hell did you roll down your window and let them film?! Do you even realize your status right now?"
I shot up, my heavy headpiece nearly flying off. "This is slander!"
"The whole internet is calling you a diva who drunk-drove and fled the scene! The brands are blowing up my phone! Do you know how much we'll owe in breach penalties?"
I grabbed my phone and frantically scrolled through the trending topics. My heart pounded—#NanZhiDrunkDriving had already climbed to #3 on Weibo. The comments were a bloodbath:"Ban this trash influencer for life."
"Never understood why she got famous. Finally, her downfall!"
"This isn't right…" My fingers trembled. "Someone's targeting me!"
"I don't care who's behind it," Mr. King said coldly. "Issue an apology statement now and lay low—"
"Apologize for what? I didn't do anything wrong!" I yanked off the ornate headpiece, my hair tumbling loose. "I'm going to see Mr. Fang!"
Mr. King stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "Are you insane? Bothering Mr. Fang over this? He's a busy man—"
I didn't let him finish, snatching my jacket and bolting. Staff in the hallway gawked, but I didn't care.
The CEO's office was on the top floor. During the elevator ride, I hastily smoothed my disheveled hair and adjusted my expression. The moment the doors opened, I put on my most pitiful face, ready to play the victim.
But when I pushed open the office door, the scene froze me in place—
Fang Yichen stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, flanked by two uniformed officers. A stack of documents was spread across the desk. At the sound of the door, all three turned to look at me.
Fang Yichen frowned slightly. "Yes?"
Only then did I recognize the officers as police. I wavered. "I… I…"
"Here about the car accident rumors?" Fang Yichen said calmly, signaling the officers to wait. He walked over and handed me a file. "Already handled."
"Huh?" I was baffled.
He tapped the document. "The official traffic police accident report. The other driver's apology video." A pause. "And the lawsuits filed against twelve defamatory accounts, with IP traces."
I flipped through the papers—official stamps, video stills from that day.
"How did you…?"
The corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. "Xingyue's PR monitoring isn't for show." He checked his watch. "In twenty minutes, Legal will hold a press conference to clarify everything. You can go back to shooting now."
I stood there, suddenly speechless. All my rehearsed pleas and dramatics stuck in my throat. Finally, I managed a stiff: "Thank you, Mr. Fang."
"No need." He turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, and…"
"Yeah?"
"Next time…" His back was to me, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "…don't panic like this. The company will handle it." He gestured vaguely at my messy hair.
I stared at his retreating figure, my heart skipping a beat. Only when his secretary softly cleared her throat did I snap out of it and leave.
Back in the makeup room, Mr. King was pacing like a caged animal. "Are you out of your mind?! You actually barged into the CEO's office?!"
I didn't answer, just smacked the file against his chest. "Solved."
Mr. King's eyes bulged as he read. "Holy—Mr. Fang stepped in personally?" He eyed me suspiciously. "What's your relationship with him?"
"Boss and employee." I sat back in the makeup chair, but my lips betrayed me, quirking upward.